


i was killing before killing was cool

by bi-tlejuice (bi_tlejuice)



Series: adventures of lydia deetz and the b-man [3]
Category: Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice) - Fandom, Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: BFFFFs, Best Friends, Hurt/Comfort, Rescue, and he doesn't take that shit lightly, if you fuck with Lydia that means you fuck with the b-man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:34:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bi_tlejuice/pseuds/bi-tlejuice
Summary: "There is something wrong," she says, a declaration she's not going to let him dispute."Nah," he tries anyway, before promptly turning and vomiting again. That would be worrying enough, except she manages to look closer and it's not vomit, it's blood. "Shit." He turns to her, reaches out as if willing her not to go anywhere. "It's not-" he pauses to gag, clamping a hand over his mouth and swallowing before continuing. "It's no biggie."
Relationships: Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz
Series: adventures of lydia deetz and the b-man [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690348
Comments: 25
Kudos: 369





	i was killing before killing was cool

**Author's Note:**

> welcome welcome welcome! warning for graphic descriptions of violence. b-man is very mad. as always, you don't need to read the other bits of the series but it will enhance it!

When it first starts, Beetlejuice straight up _refuses_ to admit anything is wrong at all. When Lydia sees him in her room, curled up in a tight ball next to the radiator, she nudges him with her toe to see if he's just found a new sleeping position. Weirdly, he flinches in reaction as if she's just kicked him. "Beej?" she frowns, crouching down next to him and poking his shoulder.

"Woah!" he shouts, as if he didn't notice her there even after she nudged him. His voice is hoarse and half-whispery, which she's never heard him sound before. "Warn a man, Lyds."

"I _did_ \- why're you on the floor? Why d'you sound all- all like that?"

"Oh, y'know," he says cheerily, as if he's not shivering in a ball on the floor. "Just a little under the weather. Tryna sweat it out."

"That's gross, don't sweat on my carpet," she says out of reflex, but her hands betray her by tucking the nearest blanket over his huddled form. "Need anything?" 

"Nah, all good here, kiddo," he promises, wincing as if the scratch of his voice is hurting him. "School?"

"Shit," she sighs, because he's right, she needs to leave two minutes ago. Besides, he's the self-proclaimed ghost with the most, baddest bitch in the Netherworld. This might not actually be true, but Lydia has seen with her own eyes that he knows what he's doing. He's been alive for like, a billion years, anyway, and nothing's killed him yet (poor choice of words, but you get the idea.) It's just a fever, she's sure he'll be fine.

It's just, when she gets home from school later that day, she's not so sure. Barbara's cooking some kind of awesome smelling fruit pie in the kitchen and accosts her to taste it, which is nice, but then she puts the spoon in the sink and frowns. "Have you seen Beetlejuice anywhere? I called for him, but he didn't show up. I know he's round here somehwere, but normally he wouldn't miss a pie tasting for anything."

"He's- uh, he's in my room. I don't think he's very well."

"Oh! That's funny, he always said we never needed to worry about getting sick. Apparently the dead don't get sick, which kind of makes sense. Maybe it's different 'cause he has a body," she muses, rolling out the pastry. Now that she's heard that, Lydia swears she can remember Beetlejuice saying something like that, about how once you're dead you can be exposed to literally _anything_ and not catch it. Maybe Barbara is right about it being different for him, one of the very few ghosts that also comes with a body. For all she knows with Beetlejuice, he could have a mild cold and just loves to be overdramatic. 

But then she walks in her room and actually sees him, and she changes her mind. He hasn't moved at all, by the looks of it, other than to try and push himself closer to the radiator and to wrap the blanket around himself like it's his lifeline. It's his hair that really worries her - as much as he's tried to deny it, you'd have to be blind not to notice how he's a walking mood ring. Sometimes it's subtle, soft fluctuations in the green depending on how excited he is. She's seen more drastic changes a couple times - it went blue once, when Charles was busy on a phone call and told him he didn't have time to build Lego (that took a _lot_ of apologising and explaining how jobs have to take priority over fun, but the blue didn't go until Charles sat and built a Lego hut with him the next day.) The point is, he's a big baby who wears his emotions in his hair, so she figured it would be a good way to gauge how sick he really was.

Barely visible because of the way he's hiding under the blanket, his hair is just managing to poke up in tufts. It's a dull grey.

"Beetlejuice?" she says softly, hoping the use of his name will wake him up. There's nothing. "Beetlejuice," she repeats with much more urgency, kneeling down by his side and uncovering his face. His eyes are screwed shut as if the light is burning him, so after a second of though she runs to turn the light off and yank the curtain across.

"Hey," he says weakly, something she's never heard him sound. "What 'bout school?"

"It's- Beej, I've _been_ to school," she says, touching his forehead apprehensively. It's _burning_ hot. "Your hair's grey. You said ghosts couldn't _get_ sick."

"I'm the ghost with the most," he yawns, subconsciously going to touch his hair. "Guess most includes sickness too." 

"But- we can't call a doctor, what're we supposed to do? You're getting really sick _really_ fast, BJ, we can't just-"

"Lyds," he interrupts, probably aiming to be reassuring but sounding too sick to do anything more that worry her. "It's chill. I'll get better."

_Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it._

"That's what mom said," she does say, sticking out her chin in a way she hopes makes her look annoyed and not like she's about to cry.

This makes him sit up suddenly, though it takes him a minute of squeezing his eyes shut and holding his head before he can actually look at her. "Hey. Look at me, kid," he says, rolling his eyes when she does not look at him and just continues staring at her knees. "I'm not goin' anywhere. Pinky promise." Maybe she's not quite convinced, but the disgusting pit in her stomach goes away a little bit when he squeezes her pinky finger. It's good enough, as long as he doesn't get any worse. 

That lasts for a couple of days - he pretty much sleeps through the whole weekend, with some of the colour returning to his hair. He even gets up for dinner on Sunday night and quietly munches on Delia's diet coke can whilst everyone else eats Adam's home-cooked roast chicken and tofu for Lydia. It's the end of the school semester as well, so Lydia's not even that worried anymore. She can stay home, keep an eye on him and feed him the extra copies of her holiday homework. Beetlejuice is dozing on the sofa as they're all forced to suffer through Delia's Real Housewives episode, occasionally cracking open an eye to make an annoying comment about how Britney's argument with Kelly is _so_ unjustified. Charles keeps pretending he isn't laughing. He's gonna be fine. 

When she wakes up at what the clock confirms to be three in the morning to the sound of someone retching in the bathroom, she's less sure. The smell fills the whole hallway, but it doesn't smell like _normal_ vomit. There's no response when she knocks on the door, just more vomiting, so she lets herself in. Beetlejuice is kneeling on the floor, an arm braced over the seat and shaking like he's just been shocked. The sound of the bathroom door closing behind her seems to startle him, and when he turns to look at her it looks like there's blood dribbling down his chin. "There is something _wrong_ ," she says, a declaration she's not going to let him dispute.

"Nah," he tries anyway, before promptly turning and vomiting again. That would be worrying enough, except she manages to look closer and it's not vomit, it's _blood_. "Shit." He turns at her, reaches out as if willing her not to go anywhere. "It's not-" he pauses to gag, clamping a hand over his mouth and swallowing before continuing. "It's no biggie. But hey, would you mind, like- y'know, _not_ telling-"

Lydia backs away out of reach of his grip, and with all the air in her lungs, yells " _Barbara!_ "

"You can be a little bitch sometimes," Beetlejuice growls, but the threat is undermined by the way he gags again and then slips off the toilet seat before lying on the ground groaning. It's only a moment before she appears around the corner, brandishing a comically large knife with a murderous look in her eyes.

"No- I- put the knife _down_ , there's no intruder." Cautiously, she lowers the knife from where it's floating in the air, but she still looks unsure. "Beetlejuice is sick."

" _That's_ what you screamed for? Honey, I'm sure he can handle it."

"No, _look_ ," she huffs, pointing into the bathroom and going back in without waiting. He's gagging and coughing again, but his fingers are scrabbling for purchase with no success. _Is he too weak to sit up?_ Without a second thought she's pulling him up by the collar just in time for another tidal wave of blood to spill out. Barbara comes to his other side without command, looping her arm around his middle to help him sit up.

"You're choosing _now_ to get touchy-feely? Cheap shot, Babs," he tries, cracking a grin that doesn't reach his eyes. 

"Beetlejuice," Barbara warns, using her stern motherly tone she uses when she catches the pair of them setting fire to something on the roof. "You will tell us what's wrong, and you will tell us _now_."

"I'm sick, I guess," he grumbles, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "It'll wear off."

"You told me ghosts didn't _get_ sick," she retorts, but Lydia doesn't miss how she's stroking his hair. 

"I'm born-dead, babes. Science is a little different." Barbara narrows her eyes, as if she doesn't quite believe him, but then he's retching again so seems to drop it. They two of them sit there for a little while longer, with Barbara still petting his hair and Lydia awkwardly patting his back, before he takes a deep breath and slumps backwards. "Might have to kick the sack here, kids. Don't wanna get blood all over Delia's precious carpet." With that, Barbara descends through the floor, leaving him unbalanced and subsequently falling onto the floor. "Wow. That was kinda rude, huh." Lydia rolls her eyes, because _obviously_ the woman is coming back. Not even thirty seconds pass before she's back at the door with Beetlejuice's favourite ratty blanket and a couple of old pillows that smell like dust. "For me? You shouldn't have."

"Get some sleep," she doesn't have to say, because he's snoring quietly as soon as his head hits the pillow. "You too, sweetheart."

Lydia stands her ground, indicating at the demon. "But what if-"

"I'll watch him, if it makes you feel any better. Don't need sleep, remember? Last time I checked, you still do." Barbara reaches out, squeezing Lydia's cheek and smiling when she's batted away - she's a clever woman, she's worked out by now that Lydia likes it when she does stuff like that, even though she pretends not to. "Goodnight, hon."

Lydia falls asleep and has her first bad dream since Beetlejuice came back.

The bathroom is empty when she checks, running there the second she wakes up. Well- it's empty of demons. Charles is scrubbing at the floor incessantly with a bleach soaked sponge, grumbling under his breath at nothing in particular. "Why're you cleaning? Can't BJ just- y'know, vanish it away? Where is he?"

Charles shrugs awkwardly, not relenting in his scrubbing. "He offered, but. He seems pretty weak."

"Are you _worried_ about him?"

"I- _no._ I just- he might do it wrong if he has to exert himself," Charles insists, so clearly worried about him. Lydia can't help but smile - her dad complains about Beetlejuice daily, both to his face and to anyone else who will listen. She's always had an inkling that he cares, through the way he tells him to be more _careful_ up on the roof or how he always asks whether Beetlejuice wants anything for dinner even though he doesn't really need to eat. "He's in the attic. Barbara said _shh_ , don't wake him up." She bumps him with her shoulder as if to say _thanks_ before sprinting up the stairs (as quietly as possible) and peeking through the open door.

"Come in," Adam stage-whispers from where he's sat cross-legged on the bed. Beetlejuice is curled up in their bed, arms fastened around Adam's knee. He flushes when Lydia raises an eyebrow. "Look, he's got a horrible fever. I just want to make sure he stays warm." Barbara snorts from where she's sitting in the corner, the handbook open on the floor in front of her. "Barb's been doing some _research_ ," he says, like a massive dork who's excited by the prospect of research.

"I was right- ghosts _don't_ get sick. Nothing dead can get sick."

"There's seriously a page on that? How convenient to the plot- wait, so what's wrong with him?"

"Someone's cursed him," she says, staring at how he's still shivering, even in his sleep. "Last night, there was just _so_ much blood, I- I know he's dead, but there's got to be a point where he'll lose too much-"

"Now, Barbara," Adam cuts in, flashing a grin at Lydia that's clearly meant to be reassuring. "We don't know if that's true. Let's wait until he wakes up so we can ask him." 

Barbara kind of looks like she massively doesn't believe him, but nods anyway and announces she's going to go and make tea for everyone. Lydia looks at how small Beetlejuice looks swathed in blankets, deathly pale even compared to his usual grey pallor. Part of her is waiting for him to jump up and spout some shit about this being the greatest prank he's ever pulled, and did you even _see_ your faces, but she's still staring and he's not moving. Tentatively, she creeps over to the bed, offering Adam no explanation when she sandwiches herself between the two ghosts. He won't die. He's not gonna die. He's _already_ dead, for fuck's sake. She doesn't realise she's tearing up until Adam says, "Oh, it's alright, kiddo," and squishes her into a hug. 

Beetlejuice stirs at the movement, fingers tightening around Adam's knee before letting go and grumbling something into the sheet. "We all hanging out in here now?" he yawns, voice barely there at all. 

"You _lied_ to us," Lydia snaps before she can stop herself. "How're we supposed to help you if you're _lying_?" 

He frowns, snapping his fingers and groaning when nothing happens. "Lights please, dollface," he sighs, nudging Adam when he doesn't respond. After they turn off he forces himself up into a sitting position, completely relying on the headboard for support. "Don't look at me like that, Lyd. I didn't _lie_ , I avoided the truth. I didn't wanna like, get you guys all worried over nothing," he says, which isn't an apology but Beetlejuice has probably never once said sorry in his _life_ , so it's as good as one. "I meant it when I said it'd wear off soon- _bag_ ," he gags, holding his hand out for something.

"Crap," Adam curses, (under his breath because Adam would _never_ swear loudly in front of Lydia) looking around the room hopelessly. When Beetlejuice retches and squeezes his mouth shut, Lydia reaches for the plastic bin and holds it in front of him, grimacing when he nearly fills it to the brim with viscous blood. Adam waves his hand and the bin empties, but Lydia keeps it by the bed just in case. "Who's cursed you? I'm no doctor, but vomiting blood normally means you are very, very sick."

"I couldn't say for sure."

"But you could make an educated guess?" he prompts, used to finding his way around his white lies.

Judging by the glare he's given in response, he's hit the nail on the head. See, Beetlejuice is not a man of many values, nor someone who really takes anything seriously. He'll throw little white lies around weightlessly, and find it equally funny when other people do it to him. However. The one thing he takes seriously is honesty, especially in serious situations. Charles lies and says there's no cans left in the recycling because he doesn't want Beetlejuice eating them? No issue there. Lydia lying and saying she cares about him when she doesn't? (Note: this is not true and did not happen, but he's called her on it once or twice out of sheer shock that anyone could care about him.) There's a huge issue with that. He'll lie to their faces daily, and he's good at it, but the second someone calls it out he fesses up. 

"Juno," he grounds out, glaring at Adam as if he actually had the energy to do anything if he wanted to. "Probably."

"I thought you _killed_ her. Like, remember when you made a Sandworm _eat_ her?" Lydia points out.

"Yeah, but that was never gonna last. The only way to kill a ghost- like, _permanently_ kill a ghost, is to exorcise them. I'm sure you recall me telling you mommy was gonna be _super_ mad at me when she came back, right?" he says, and that does ring a bell. "Sandworms _eat_ ghosts, but they don't finish 'em off. So, this thing shit out Juno, and then she probably lay in a steaming heap for a month or whatever. But nobody does her job as well as her, so as soon as they found her, they probably _restored_ her. And now she's super fucking mad at me."

"Shit," says Lydia, at the same time Adam says, " _Language_."

"So what do we do?" says Barbara from the doorway, scaring the shit out of them collectively. "Is she just going to give up?"

Beetlejuice shrugs, makes grabby hands for a mug of tea. "I guess. She can't kill me- like, I promise she can't. She's waiting for me to go down there so she can rip the shit into me. But I'm not going, so she'll have to quit it." In theory, this sounds alright. Lydia still has pretty much whole two weeks off school, so if something goes wrong she'll be nearby.

"If you promise," she says begrudgingly, passing him a mug of tea from Barbara and gratefully accepting her own. "Drink your tea." 

-

Beetlejuice ended up finishing his tea before passing out again, cocooning himself in blankets and pillows. Adam and Barbara resort to napping on the sofa intermittently throughout the day due to the loss of their bed, but they don't seem to mind too much. Adam minds a _little_ bit when Delia begs for a girl's night and they end up painting his nails, but he doesn't say anything. Lydia does her math homework at the dining table, with her dad endearingly offering to help when she doesn't need it. 

She only goes up to the attic to check once or twice, because the Maitlands insist they have it covered, but Beetlejuice stays sleeping throughout the day, night, and the next two days too. This sounds like it would be beneficial, but his fever seems to continually worsens - it starts with the shakes in his sleep returning, and then he's so hot it nearly burns Lydia's hand to touch. His head had been clammy the whole time, but now he's dripping in cold sweat, grumbling in his sleep and Lydia doesn't want to go up there anymore, because when he's not talking in his sleep he looks completely and utterly dead. 

Now she sleeps lightly, waking up every time she rolls over and checking on him throughout the night. Maybe he just needs to sweat it out. Like he said, Juno can't kill him. There's no way he was lying, he wouldn't lie about something like that. She's lying in bed thinking about Juno when Adam bursts in, looking overall disheveled and very, very scared. "It's Beetlejuice," he says, and that's all Lydia needs to spring her out of bed and follow him up the attic stairs.

A foot or so above the bed, Beetlejuice is hovering in the air surrounded by a dull green fog. Barbara is at his side, shaking his shoulder and repeating his name over and over again, but to no avail. Lydia rushes over, reaches out to touch his face but the fog burns her hand. "Don't touch him, okay?" Adam warns, pulling her a few feet away from him. "It could seriously hurt a living person."

"What if it's hurting _him_?" she cries, but Adam's grip on her arm is firm. "Beetlejuice?" she calls. "Beetlejuice! _Beetlejuice_!" because that _has_ to wake him up, it always does even if he doesn't want to. He stirs, face screwing up, but doesn't wake up. 

"We have to trust him," says Barbara, stepping away to pull Lydia close. "He promised this couldn't kill him, so-"

"I believe him, it's not that. What if he's stuck like this until she stops cursing him? He may as _well_ be dead," she hisses, pushing the Maitlands away. "Where's the book?"

"Lydia, we need to stay calm-" Barbara is trying to say, but her eyes betray her and the book is lying open on the floor right behind her. They're fast, but Lydia is faster; she manages to swipe up the book and force it to stay open before Adam can wrestle it out of her grip. The whole way down the stairs they're trying to force it out of her hands but her grip is too tight, and then she's past Delia in the kitchen and out of the back door. The Maitlands can't follow her, and it doesn't matter how much they shout from the back door or how hard Delia tries to follow her in wobbly high heels. Lydia's already gone.

She doesn't run for long because she doesn't _have_ long - Delia may be clueless, but she'll go and wake up Charles and he'll be able to find her no matter where she goes. So she ducks behind the nearest abandoned building and looks at the page that was already open. 

_Depending on the strength of the curse, it can have multiple debilitating effects.  
a) **minor curses** will likely only have mild effects such as nausea or migraine and will likely wear off after a number of days.  
b) _**average strength curses** _may cause internal bleeding and hugely debilitating effects for a short period of time, with minor symptoms stretching over the next several weeks._  
 _c)_ _ **serious curses**_ _may still vary in terms of effectiveness and may exert any of the aforementioned symptoms. however, in the most serious cases the curse may have an indefinite end; the subject may be paralysed until the curser chooses or is forced to remove the curse.  
It is important to recognise that regardless of the strength of curse, it cannot kill any undead being. _

How perfectly specific and helpful. 

It's simple, right? She flicks to the page on exorcism (she has it memorised, learned it before the sham wedding just in case something went wrong) and checks over it. All she has to do is go to the Netherworld, inevitably attract Juno's attention just by showing up, and exorcise her. Juno dying means she can't keep fuelling the curse, and then the nice customs lady will let Lydia come home like she did last time. Piece of cake.

All she needs now is a pen.

In the end, she's resorted to approaching a young boy scribbling determinedly on the sidewalk. "I'll give you a dollar for one bit of chalk," she offers, waving it in front of him. Without speaking he snatches it away, grubby fingers holding out a pastel blue chunk of chalk a second later. She jogs back behind the building five or so minutes away, because something she _doesn't_ wanna deal with is the serious repercussions of someone _seeing_ the door.

 _Knock, knock, knock_. Nothing happens.

"Shit," she says to the door, because she never even thought that the door might require her to be dead to be open. The book is still open by her feet - she was _very_ careful not to let it close - but nowhere does it say anything about what to do if you're still alive. Probably because you're not supposed to _read_ the book or even be able to open it if you're alive, but still. Wait- maybe if she just...

Clutching the open book to her chest this time, she knocks again three more times. Holds her breath, counts to five, and-

Green light swathes her face along with cold air and the smell of grave dirt. "Nice one, Deetz," she says to herself, because she really didn't think the door could be tricked that easily. She briefly checks behind her for any stray people before holding her breath and stepping through. 

She arrives at the same place from last time, surrounded by a crowd of the dead all muttering to each other. Maybe she kind of sticks out, because most of the people here have horrific defects from their deaths, but it's not like she needs to be hiding. She doesn't want to get _through_ the gate, because she'll end up stuck. Juno can't be too far away. 

Sure enough, it's only a few more minutes of trying not to get squashed before her voice croaks out loud enough to fill the room. "All recently deceased, _form a line_!"

Well, it's now or never. Lydia steps out of the line. "Juno."

" _You_ ," she snarls, teeth inhumanely sharp and protruding. "You've got some _nerve_ coming back here."

"Take the curse off Beetlejuice, _now_!" she demands, standing up at full height in attempt to seem vaguely threatening. When she doesn't move, only stands there smirking, Lydia takes a deep breath. "Prayer to St Michael the Archangel, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the-"

Suddenly, there's no noise coming out of her mouth. The book disintegrates into ash in her arms. "You think you can exorcise _me?_ In _Hell_? My own domain? You're even stupider than I thought. I only cursed that god forsaken demon because I knew you would end up down here, fighting his battles for him." She tries to say _why did you want me_ but there's still no sound coming out of her mouth. "I meant what I said, missy. You come here, you don't get to leave. You're here to stay." Lydia's blood runs cold. Surely she can't be trapped here? "And don't worry. I know you breathers get all _lonely_ , so I've hired you a friend. Someone to _keep an eye on you_."

From out of the shadows steps a monstrously large man with a bullet hole in his head. He's over six foot five easily, with biceps larger than Lydia's head and a murderous rage in his eyes. "C'mere," he grumbles, slowly stepping towards her. Immediately Lydia steps back, grappling with the chalk in her jeans pocket. Juno moves faster and Lydia is hoisted into the air, kicking and shouting but not going anywhere until bullet-head reaches her. He grabs her by the cuff of her shirt and tucks her under his arm, her relentless kicking having absolutely zero effect on him as he pins her arms to her side. "Thanks, Juno."

And with that they're off, Lydia completely helpless as he carries her away from everyone else. If she can't physically overpower him, she decides, she'll have to do the next best thing and start screaming as loudly as she possibly could. "Shut it," he warns, giving her a little shake. When she doesn't, he sighs, as if she's doing something minorly inconvenient. "Warned you," is the last thing Lydia hears before he smacks her in the head and she loses consciousness. 

-

Awareness swims in slowly. The cold is the first thing she's aware of, the way it's biting at her fingers and nose waking her up quite quickly. Her head throbs with every movement she makes, and when she raises a hand to her forehead there's a pretty sizeable lump. The shift makes her realise there's a chain fastened around her waist and anchored in the wall behind her. This is not the situation she was expecting. After the dizziness settles, she attempts to stand up, fails, lies on the floor for a couple more minutes before successfully getting to her feet. It's pretty much pitch black in the room- not that it matters, because the room is completely barren other than a bloodstained mattress and a window without glass. There's a door at the other end of the room, but she highly doubts it will be unlocked, so instead she goes for the window. 

She makes it halfway out before the chain yanks her back inside at a ridiculous speed, banging her head _again_ against the floor. This can't be healthy. Bullet-head is standing in there, holding the chain in his fist and a jug in the other. "Water," he says, which Lydia eyes up but doesn't trust. Her throat burns from how thirsty she is, but there's no way she can know for sure that the water isn't like, drugged or poisoned. "Drink," he insists, thrusting it towards her. "Or don't."

Cautiously, she takes the jug and smells it. It smells fine. After a tentative mouthful, it _tastes_ fine, so she hopes for the best and chugs a quarter of it. "Food?"

"If you eat, you'll live."

"Yeah, that's like the whole point."

"Juno wants you to die here. Can't leave then."

"I have to _starve_ to death? Why are you giving me water? Won't that keep me alive?"

He shrugs. "I dunno how breathers work. Will it?"

"No," she says instantly, standing up again to bring his attention away from the jug. "You should let me go. Beetlejuice will-"

Quick as lightening, there's a smack around the face. God fucking damnit. If she didn't have concussion, she definitely does now. "Don't say his name in my house," he growls, pulling the chain so she's only inches away from him. "I'll stitch your mouth if I have to, girl. Don't make me." With that, he drops the chain, not phased by how she stumbles and falls to the ground. "I'll be listening," he promises, leaving the room and bolting the door behind him.

The chain doesn't let her reach the mattress, but after like, twenty minutes of stretching out for it she finally tugs it within her allowed space. It's only then that she lets herself cry. This is not good. If Juno didn't release Beetlejuice from the curse, then only Barbara and Adam can come here to help her, and as soon as they do they'll be trapped here anyway. Maybe this is it.

Being dead might not be the end of the world- once she's properly down here, she's sure she'll be able to find her mom. 

Who is she kidding. She's sobbing now, something she hasn't done for over a year now, whole body shuddering painfully as she cries into her jacket. She doesn't want to die yet. She didn't even get to say goodbye. 

She sobs for as long as her body lets her, calming down her shaking breaths just in time for her to pretend to be asleep when bullet-head unlocks the door. As long as she's here, whether it's another hour or the rest of eternity, she won't give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Forcing her breathing to stay steady, she stays completely still whilst he plods in and drops what seems to be a blanket on her. After he leaves, she sits up to investigate - it's mismatched blanket of different fabrics stitched together that to touch isn't very soft, but is heavy enough to provide some real warmth. 

There's nothing else for her to do other than sleep.

-

"... _you are, okay? Don't let them move you, don't go anywhere if you can help it. Stay where you are, I promise I'm coming. Just..."_

_There's a soft blur of noise, static playing through her head._

_"...signal underground, I know, but hopefully... keep it together, alright? I just need to..."_

Lydia wakes up with a yelp, and for a second she forgets anything is wrong. Just a bad dream.

But then she cracks an eye open and bullet-head is sat a few feet away, watching her sleep. 

"What the _fuck_ ," she hisses, scrambling backwards until her back hits the cold concrete wall. 

"You sleep pretty," is all he offers as an explanation, shrugging as if it's no big deal. "No ugly scowl on your face. Go back to sleep."

"Not with you watching," she refuses, scowling as hard as she possibly can. Without warning he surges towards her, grabbing her by the ankle and pulling her back on the bed. 

"Sleep. Juno wanted you to die slowly, but if you're not listening to me I'm sure she'll get why I had to break your neck." Lydia lies down and squeezes her eyes shut. She can't sleep, can feel the guy's eye's burning into her head even once she rolls over. He doesn't leave for hours.

Exactly how fast time is passing is hard to gauge in the Netherworld - it's pretty much permanently dark outside, and the street hustle and bustle seems to increase and decrease at completely random times. Her phone lasted a day and a half before it died; obviously, there was no signal on another plane of existence, but it was nice to have some way of keeping track of time. She finished the jug a while ago, and bullet-head is refusing to bring her any more. Lydia isn't an idiot, she knows the human body can go an average of three days without water. It's cold, and she's not in direct sunlight, so she's got five or six days maximum. So far it's been maybe three? Hard to tell, but judging from the way her vision swims and her stomach aches from hunger. Sometimes bullet-head eats in there with her, but it's either bits of debris or rotting meat that he doesn't offer her anyway.

"Don't worry," he says on what might be the fourth day. "Juno says you'll die soon. It won't hurt after that." A small part of him wants to beg him to kill her, just to stop the painful pit in her stomach or the throbbing of her head, but she won't. She's going to stick it out until the very end, and even in death she isn't going to quit fighting it. 

Her throat is so dry that it burns with every breath. She can't sit up anymore without being overcome by dizziness. Bullet-head is absentmindedly patting her head whilst reading a kid's picture book, which she _hates,_ but even _not_ starving to death she wouldn't be able to push him away. Outside, a car pulls up but stays running. The hum of the engine is calming, a soft purr that she thinks wouldn't be a bad sound to slip away to. Maybe if she just closes her eyes.

Somewhere, deep in the back of her mind, there's a knock on the door. Before she can even raise her head there's tape being slapped over her mouth. _It's not like I've got the energy to yell_ , she thinks groggily, closing her eyes again as bullet-head finally goes away. Finally, she can sleep unbothered. The door opens downstairs, and there's some casual mumbling that she can't make out through the floorboards. Who cares.

Then there's a visceral _roar_ that chills her to her bones, and that forces her to open her eyes. The voices downstairs are raised now, getting louder and increasingly emotional. If only her head wasn't pounding she could hear them properly instead of the occasional word.

" _I swear, I didn't want to!"_ she hears bullet-head yelp from downstairs, before an incredibly loud slam. Someone starts running up the stairs with urgency, and in the back of her mind she thinks about grabbing the book for a weapon, _something_ to defend herself with, but it's kind of useless. Even when she reaches the book she can't pull together the strength to pick it up, and if she can't do that there's no way she'll be able to fight someone off. The bolt is opened and Lydia puts all of her effort into sitting up so she can face the attacker head on. The door slams open, ricocheting off the concrete wall so loudly that her ears ring.

Beetlejuice is standing in the doorway, hair an angry red and eyes completely black. The second he catches sight of her he waves that away, shooting over and dropping next to her. "Fuck- fuck, fuck, _fuck_ _,_ " he's hissing, scrabbling at the chain with two hands and holding her head up with another. "Lyds? You still with me?" Lydia tries to respond but it comes out as some kind of pathetic cough. "Thank fucking God. What d'you need?"

"Water," she croaks out, and suddenly there's a straw in her mouth and whenever she tries to drink out of it there's water flowing from nowhere. Beetlejuice holds her up whilst she drinks, checking her over for injury. "Thanks."

"You up to telling me what happened?" he says, not waiting for her response before standing up and hoisting her onto his back. Loosely, she grips around his neck, but she's pretty sure he's got her.

"Juno cursed you... knew I'd come down. Meant to starve to death."

"Who's bullet-head? Why's he here?"

"Babysitter. Make sure I kicked the bucket."

"He do that to your face?" 

Vaguely, Lydia remembers maybe being hit? Oh, and there was the screaming on the way to wherever they are, where he knocked her out. "Yeah," she says as he starts carrying her downstairs. But before they make it to the door, bullet-head is up. One of his eyes is bruised shut, twinning with Beetlejuice's reddened knuckles, but he's there so fast that Lydia doesn't realise she's being snatched away until it happens.

"Leave, demon," bullet-head groans, holding Lydia in the air by the collar of her shirt. "I'll snap her neck if you don't."

Suddenly, the air is much warmer, dust beginning to cirlce in gusts of wind around Beetlejuice's feet. "Lydia," he says, voice scarily quiet and calm. "Close your eyes." She does so without question, dropping to the floor after a disgusting, wet crack echoes through the air. The shock forces her eyes open, and she's met with the sight of Beetlejuice floating in the air, holding bullet-head by the neck. His back is clearly broken and he's whimpering in pain but Beetlejuice doesn't relent, black eyes and devestatingly sharp teeth grinning down at the quivering man. Physically he's much shorter but it doesn't matter - the sheer power radiating off of him and the fear it's causing means size difference is nothing. Claws extend and pierce the man's neck with a sickening popping noise, but Beetlejuice keeps squeezing and emanating some kind of terrifying growl. Lydia watches, unable to tear her eyes away as hellfire starts burning through bullet-head's eyes, and he's not so much whimpering now as screaming in pain.

When Beetlejuice lets go, he's dead before he hits the floor.

"He hit me when I said your name," Lydia speaks up. Instantly, Beetlejuice drops to the floor, appearing like his normal self bar his deep red hair. "I thought it was weird, that he was so scared of you. Now I get it."

Beetlejuice frowns, takes a hesitant step towards her. "Are you scared of me? I didn't want you to see that, kid. That was the point of the whole _close your eyes_ thing."

Lydia takes a deep breath, thinks about how terrifying what she just witnessed was. Thinks about the completely overwhelming flood of relief she felt when he burst through the door. "No."

"Let's get outta here, then?" he suggests, still hesitant, as if she's going to change her mind. When she stands and stumbles he's there, picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder. She wants to protest, because realistically she can walk with a little support, but she's so tired. So, so tired. He unloads her into the passenger seat of his car and does her seatbelt up.

"You're such a dad," she mumbles, smiling semi-delusionally. 

"I am _not_. At _most,_ I'm a fucking cool uncle. Y'know, the kind that drinks a shit-ton at family events and is never gonna have kids," he sighs, but he's grinning as he shuts her door and appears in the driver's seat. "Let's get out of this shithole."

"You have a car? You said you couldn't drive."

"I _can't_ drive," he insists, which just fills her with confidence as he starts driving away. Her stomach groans loudly as he's speaking, and before she even blinks there's a cheese sandwich in her lap. "Eat up. I can't drive legally in the human world, 'cause there's all these rules and shit. Cars work differently here." She's pretty sure he keeps talking, but the gentle rumbling of the engine along with her thirst finally being sated is enough to send he straight to sleep. Maybe they drive for hours, or maybe it's five minutes. When they arrive and he gently shakes her shoulder, she feels much better. "Think you can walk, kid?"

"Of course," she says, with very little belief that it's actually true. She does actually manage to get out of the car and round to the front without falling once, so props to her. But then, she can't help but notice- "Your car is a fucking _Beetle_."

He cracks an easy grin, and she almost forgets about the Beetlejuice from earlier. "Obviously. Now, I'd really like to get outta here before I have to deal with anything else." As if on cue, there's some kind of horrendous roar in the distance. "Like that, actually. Scoot." She doesn't need to be told twice. He points to a neon red doorway of a hut-like building, staying close to her back and consistently checking behind them. Inside there's a shabby desk with what looks like a teenage boy slumped over it. There's a knife wedged between his eyes. "Yo, T-man."

"B-man," the kid grins, sticking his fist out for a fist-bump without question. "Need out?"

"ASAP," is all it takes for the boy to flick a few switches on the desk that are invisble to Lydia for some reason. A trap door opens up at their feet, glowing soft white light with birdsong spilling out. 

" _BEETLEJUICE!_ " Juno screeches from outside. Beetlejuice winces as if he's stubbed his toe. 

"I'll meet you there, alright kid?" he says, and she's about to refuse when he says, "Sorry about this," and pushes her through. 

She rolls out of the side of the wall, landing face first in the soft grass of her front garden. Charles is sat on the porch chuffing a cigar, but he immediately throws it to the ground when he sees her appear. "Lydia!" he calls, dropping to his knees by her side as soon as he gets over there. "Are you hurt?"

"Meh," she says, rolling over to face him. 

"Your head?" he prompts, scooping her up when she offers no response. He doesn't need to know what she endured - all it's gonna do is scare him. "You smell like grave dirt. Want Delia to run you a bath?"

"Can I eat first? Like, the whole contents of the fridge?"

He kisses her forehead, smiling down at her with teary eyes. "Of course, Lydia. God, I was so worried. We all were." Delia comes to their side, squeezing her hand so tight it nearly hurts.

"Can't get rid of me that easily." He deposits her on the couch and half jogs to the fridge, gathering anything Lydia might remotely want and rushing it back to the coffee table. She goes for the leftover fruit pie first, meaning her mouth is completely full when Barbara and Adam materialise next to her, hugging her until she thinks she might burst. "Sorry I ran."

"I would've done the same if I could," Adam says, which she thinks is his way of saying it's okay. "But- is Beetlejuice...?" he asks, trailing off as if it's too horrible to say.

"I'm pretty sure he's fine. Juno caught up to us as we got to the gate but he chose to stay behind." She makes sure to choose her next words carefully. "I think we forget he's actually an incredibly powerful immortal demon."

"You _flatter_ me, Lyds," says a voice from the backdoor. Beetlejuice is standing there, suit slicked with blood and hair soaked in it. "Uh, anyone got any dry cleaning recommendations?"

There's a collective silence whilst they all take in the blood-soaked demon. "I thought the dead didn't bleed?" Adam half-whispers, clearly trying not to gag at the smell. 

"They don't actively bleed, no," he confirms, flicking his wrist behind him to get some of the excess off. "They have blood _inside_ of them. It's just a matter of getting it out." Again, silence. "So, snacks?"

"If you get any blood on this carpet I'll kill you," Delia blurts out as he goes to step inside, clamping her hands over her mouth as if realising who she's just threatened. 

"It's ghost blood, Delilah," he sighs, waving his hands around his face as if that's supposed to show something. "No matter how powerful I am, this shit isn't coming off."

"I think I have a solution," says Charles, getting up and walking into the garden without further explanation. Beetlejuice follows him out of curiosity, and the four of them are left sitting there, the room quiet other than Lydia's munching, before they hear the squeak of the tap. A second later, Beetlejuice runs back past the door, yelping, swiftly followed by Charles and the garden hose. Barbara snorts, reappearing at the window and lifting Beetlejuice into the air. He manages to wriggle out of her grip, but not before Charles blasts him with water - and by then, it's too late to run.

"I can't _believe_ I went to _Hell_ and back to save your daughter, and _this_ is the treatment I get!" he wails, but it's barely audible over the water hitting him in the face. He sits cross legged and sulking until they decide he's had enough and switch the water off.

"Don't you want a nice warm bath now?" Barbara coos, giggling when he glares.

"What, with _soap?_ You outta your goddamn mind? I want a cup of fucking coffee."

"Mr Grumpy," she taunts, but she's disappearing into the kitchen before he can respond. 

"So, can you dry the suit, or are you stripping out here?" says Adam from the doorway, arguably even more protective of the condition of the house than Delia. 

"Adam, I _know_ you want me, but I really don't think now is the time," Beetlejuice insists, pouting when Adam just turns on his heels and leaves. "I'm not stripping in front of all of you, I'll get stage fright."

 _For what performance,_ Lydia doesn't say. Instead she lies back down on the sofa, willing more blankets to magically appear on top of her. She can still hear Beej and Dad squabbling in the garden about whether he can come in, Adam and Delia chatting about how much of a mess he always makes and Barbara humming in the kitchen. It's like, kind of perfect.

Beetlejuice appears next to her, dry and wrapped in what is clearly Lydia's dressing gown and multiple blankets, several of which he deposits onto her without asking if she wants them. "Get warm, kid. I have a feeling they're gonna baby us for a little bit."

"Is that my dressing gown? You'd better be wearing underwear," she says darkly, but even the blankets can't hide her grinning.

"Of _course_ I am. Get cosy, alright?" he repeats, and she doesn't need to be told twice. 

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know if you enjoyed!


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